Paying homage to my nearest and dearest best friend, Maria, I wanted to tell you about what we’ve dubbed the “shampoo syndrome.” This seems pertinent to discuss today as we honor the Best Life of the Party Girlfriend. You see, I speak for myself (and I’m sure a few others), when I say I can be that Best Life of the Party Girlfriend. But when the shampoo strikes, there’s no hope. This syndrome refers to that one little thing, often completely harmless to the mind of an outsider (i.e.: shampoo), that triggers an emotional outburst, downpour, meltdown. It makes one feel all kinds of crazy, as a normally “sane” individual is transformed into a…well, insane one.
It’s hard to say whether I am an emotional person or not. Case in point: For years, I attended sleep-away camp. On the last day, girls suffocated each other with hugs and bawled dramatically about being apart, while I stood there ready to board the damn bus. For those same years, I also (quite sadly) attended numerous funerals where my nose got stuffy but my tear ducts remained stubborn, keeping those salty things to themselves. Still, I can’t watch an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition or sit through one of those pet adoption commercials accompanied by Sarah McLaughlin music and not reach for the Kleenex. Like I said, it’s hard to say.
So please imagine my confusion when my mom asked me to buy shampoo and I consequently suffered a breakdown, shouting, “Not the shampooooo!” Of course, my bestie Maria completely understood. “I’m not a crier!,” I protested, “nor am I dramatic” (ehh, is that an exaggeration?). She got it, like she always does, and told me that she often feels the same way. She agreed that somehow one little thing can set you off, and it is usually found in the most unlikely of places. In my case, it was the shampoo.
Especially for women, these sporadic emotional avalanches are often attributed to “that time of the month,” and while this may sometimes be the case, I laugh when my mom asks if Aunt Flow is in town every time I get a bit unbalanced and off-the-hinges. Even if I respond no, she still asks how far into my cycle I am. It seems that no matter where I proclaim to be, that is the justification. You ended two weeks ago? You should have it in nine days? Hormonal or not, and as crazy as I feel when these outbursts occur, I somehow can’t imagine people, women specifically, not being able to relate. Haven’t we all cried over spilled milk, unkempt hair, some slight PMS tummy pudge? Even if we pride ourselves on being the Best Life of the Party Girlfriend, the most positive chica ever to exist, don’t we all sometimes succumb to our own feelings, irrational as they may be?
GIRL TALK TIME: Has one little thing ever set off an emotional roller coaster in you? Even if it’s as “crazy” as a hair product, we obviously won’t judge you. Can you relate to these odd, sometimes unexplained outbursts?